


Two Nights in Knight School

by tehta



Series: Knight School Nonsense [1]
Category: Nimona (Webcomic)
Genre: Humor, Knight School, M/M, Science, The evil Institution, Tiny fists of rage, UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-12 14:21:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2113203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tehta/pseuds/tehta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So, how did the teenage Ambrosius and Ballister get together, anyway?</p><p>I suspect that, in canon, it was the simplest and most natural process in the world. In this comedy of misunderstandings, it is... not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [all the Nimona readers stressed out by the endgame updates](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=all+the+Nimona+readers+stressed+out+by+the+endgame+updates).



“Come in!”

Ambrosius complied at once, heading straight for Ballister’s bed — and for Ballister himself, who lay stretched out there comfortably, one arm behind his head, the other holding an open book.

“What are you reading?” Ambrosius sat down beside his friend and grabbed the book, turning it over until he could see the cover. “Oh. A medical journal. Of course! I mean, it is Friday night, after all, the time for fun. And what could be more fun than reading up on genetic engineering?”

“I don’t know.” Ballister raised himself up. “I take it you have something in mind?”

“Yes! The music festival in the park. Just imagine…” He threw one arm over Ballister’s shoulders. “No teachers, no classes, no pressure… Classical music, which I know you like… The stars, the warm, flower-scented summer air…”

Ballister shifted away, letting the arm fall: a rather disturbing habit he had lately acquired. “That sounds very romantic. Exactly the sort of event that might be appreciated by... a girlfriend.”

“Well, yes… Bwendolyn will be there, naturally. But there is no need to be jealous—“

Ballister winced. “I have told you before. I am not even remotely jealous of Bwen— of you and your romantic successes. I simply have no wish to be a third wheel.“

“And no need to feel like a third wheel, either.“ Ambrosius laid a hand on Ballister’s arm. “You see, Bwendolyn has promised to bring one of her friends, who is sure to like you. I mean, I have already told her what a promising knight you are: how you are my only real rival, and so on. And of course you are so very good-looking.” Without even trying, at that: it was frustrating how amazing Ballister managed to look no matter what he wore, even when he forgot to comb his hair or fell into a muddy pond, or caused some kind of weird science explosion that covered him in sticky purple goop. Even when he was sick, which made his eyes look darker and deeper and—

Ballister suddenly turned away, breaking eye contact and moving out of Ambrosius’ reach. “It is a kind thought. But I do not think I will be very interested in this friend of Bwendolyn’s.”

“Don’t give up on her before you have even met her! If you two hit it off, we will be able to go on double dates everywhere, all the time. As it is, we hardly see each other anymore. Sometimes, a whole day goes by, and— the shared dormitories were awful, but I sort of miss them.”

“I do know what you mean. But…” Ballister crossed his arms across his chest. “The thing is, girls— I am not really...“

“True, we are not really used to them, after the dorms. But they are all right once you get to know them, I promise. Just people, really. And having a girlfriend is absolutely amazing. You can—”

“Ambrosius, stop.” Ballister’s voice sounded far too tense for someone who claimed not to be jealous. “Spare me the details.”

“As if I would ever speak of unchivalrous things! All I meant to say is that you can act like a proper knight during jousts. Wear a lady’s favour, and all that.”

“I suppose…”

“Also, when you are with someone from… outside, you never have to think about this place at all. You can meet all their friends and, yes, their family, and they assume that you grew up normally, just like them.”

“Ah. I can see why you would enjoy that.”

“So you will come!” Ambrosius leapt up, and held out a hand. “Let’s go, then.”

“No. I am sorry, I just do not think it would work. But—“ He hesitated. “But if you truly want us to spend more time together, again… I think I should— You could meet some of my friends from the science lab.”

The science lab... Of course! Suddenly, everything was clear. Ambrosius clutched at his head. “I have been a total idiot. Of course you do not want a regular girl from Bwendolyn’s set: you need a SCIENCE GIRLFRIEND. Or, wait; do you already have one? Is that why—”

“No, I— But—”

“Never mind,” said Ambrosius quickly, to put him out of his misery. “I am sure I can find you one. Perhaps even by next weekend!”

And with that, he left, the first step of Operation Science Girlfriend already clear in his mind.

—

The main problem was this: if Ballister was going to get a science girlfriend for double-dating purposes, then Ambrosius would need one, as well. And Bwendolyn just would not do. While she was pretty and fun and extremely well-dressed, she did not care for scientists, considering them close-minded and lacking in imagination. It had been hard enough to convince her to spend time with Ballister, who had once offended her horribly by saying something cold-hearted about auras.

Besides, finding a science girlfriend for himself would certainly be easier than finding one for a reserved and selective friend. And then, once Ambrosius had one, he could meet many others. Surely at least one would be doing the right sort of research to appeal to Ballister?

So, really, the Festival date could not have come at a more convenient time. True, Bwendolyn’s friend was a bit of a complication—getting stood up had apparently upset her so much that she could not stop talking about it—but when she wandered off to get ice cream, Ambrosius saw his chance.

Bwendolyn took the breakup well, for something that clearly took her by surprise.

“Why now?” she said, her brown eyes wide. “I know you have never been particularly ardent, but then last week I found you carving our initials on that tree…”

“It felt right at the time, I had had a bit to drink, and— Look, Bwendolyn.” He took both her hands in his. “Please believe me when I say this has nothing to do with you. It is all me. And how busy I am, with Knight lessons, and all the junior tournaments, and now also Science, and so… Er…”

“Oh well.” Bwendolyn shrugged. “Daddy is always saying that I should find myself someone rich, from a good family. I suppose I can, now.”

Ambrosius had been feeling vaguely guilty about the whole business, but the bad feelings lessened after that. Anyway, he had a Step Two to plan.


	2. Chapter 2

Ambrosius dressed carefully. He put on his plainest and least favourite shirt, noticing with some pleasure that it was now flatteringly tight, like all the others. God, how he wished this growth spurt would continue forever! Still, he did not wish to overwhelm the science people with his looks, so he tied back his hair, pulling out only a few strands to frame his face. Once he was satisfied with the effect, he headed for the library.

While it was true that the labs would have been more sciencey, he would have felt ill-at-ease there, and putting oneself at a disadvantage was very poor strategy. The library, at least, was familiar: Ambrosius had spent plenty of time in the Chivalry section, often even alone. And then, it was a beautiful building, especially the lobby, with its high ceiling and delicate marble columns.

And with that elaborately carved map of the stacks. Ambrosius paused before it to review his tactical options. He was considering a bold sortie straight into the badlands of the Medical section when he noticed that the other person present in the lobby — a pale, scholarly guy with straw-colored hair — seemed to be be eyeing him speculatively. Unnerved, Ambrosius decided to postpone the difficult maneuvers for now, and to begin by doing a basic sweep for cute librarians.

He was just turning away from the map, and assuming an invitingly nonchalant air, when Ballister strode past him.

Seriously, right past him! Without a single glance! It had to be the hair. Or maybe the boring shirt? Shocked to his core, Ambrosius could only gape as Ballister approached the other, scholarly guy.

“Sorry,” he said. “Delay at the lab.”

“The Time Reverser acting up?” the scholar asked with an irritating smirk.

Ballister responded by making an awkward ha ha sound that could only be laughter. Laughter? Ballister hardly ever laughed, and never like that. Ambrosius clenched his fists. Something terrible was afoot here.

“So,” said Ballister, once his strange fit of hahas was over. “Shall we go, then? I thought… the music festival in the park?”

“What a great idea!” The scholar hesitated for a moment before placing his hand on Ballister’s shoulder. And then—

And then, the floor seemed to fall away from under Ambrosius’ feet. The high ceiling seemed to rise up even higher, lifted by the force of his rage.

For the scholar had leaned in, and kissed Ballister on the cheek.

“NO!” Ambrosius was only half-aware of moving to stand before the astonished couple. “No, Ballister! Stop him!”

Ballister blinked twice. The line of his mouth tightened. “Good day, Ambrosius,” he said. “What a surprise! But a fortunate one, as I have been hoping for a chance to introduce you to Gustav. Gustav, Ambrosius.”

“Pleased to mee—” Gustav’s reedy voice matched his unexceptional looks. “Actually, no, wait, I cannot say that I am. Why exactly have you been hoping to introduce me to this screaming barbarian?”

“Because I am his best friend,” said Ambrosius. “And so I really must— Ballister, you cannot do this. You just cannot! It is all wrong. What if people see you? Think of the Institution. You know their rules. You know they might—”

“Your best friend?” asked Gustav. “Really? Your best friend is a homophobe?”

Now that was completely unfair. Ambrosius turned towards him. “I am nothing of the sort! And who are you to judge me, anyway? Some lab geek with some perfect nerdy life. This is Ballister, who wants to be a knight. And who is really really—”

“Get a grip, Ambrosius.” Ballister moved to stand before him, shielding Gustav, who had started edging away. “Sorry about this,” he said over his shoulder. “And please do not worry. Ambrosius is no threat to anyone. I am pretty sure," he continued, turning back towards Ambrosius, "that he is not even homophobic. He is just a self-centered ass with a blind trust in authority.”

“What?” Ambrosius could not believe it. First the kiss, and now... “You don’t mean that!”

“Don’t I?” Ballister’s eyes narrowed. “Go ahead — name a single thing you think about, besides yourself and your status at the Institution.”

Well, that was easy. “You! I think about you all the time.”

“Oh merciful God,” said Gustav’s annoying voice, somewhere off to the right.

“It is true,” Ambrosius continued, “I think about you and your happiness and well-being. And that is exactly why— I mean, the Headmaster explicitly told me—“

“My happiness and well-being? Really? Is that why you have driven my date to take cover?”

Ambrosius glanced towards Gustav to find that he was, indeed, attempting to hide behind a column. “I have no idea why your… why that individual is cowering back there. Perhaps he is lacking in—”

“Perhaps he is simply not interested in a confrontation with a highly-trained, clearly unbalanced, moderately competent warrior.”

It took Ambrosius a moment to process this fully. “Moderately competent? You villain!” He clenched his fists in anger, and then realized that he might as well raise them. “Have you forgotten last Tuesday? Or are you looking for a less humiliating rematch?”

“Why, do you feel exceptionally lucky today, as well?”

“I will show you lucky!”

“Bring it on!”

Their eyes met, and held. The world fell away; Ambrosius vision narrowed and sharpened, until he could see nothing but his friend — his opponent.

Perhaps that is why he failed to notice the two burly men until they grasped both his hands, or the librarian who had fetched them, until she ordered them to throw him out.

“Fighting in a library!” he heard her tell Ballister as the men obeyed. “You should be ashamed of yourself. But I suppose all you Institution kids are alike, after—”

The library door clanged shut, cutting off her words.

—

The trip back to the dorms calmed Ambrosius, and gave him some perspective: clearly, he had to speak to Ballister again, as soon as possible, and without as much shouting as on that first attempt. He headed straight for his friend’s room, hoping to intercept him upon his return. At first, he waited outside, but, as time passed, he realized that this might seem rather odd. So, he retrieved the spare key from its hiding place in the wall moldings, and unlocked the door. Once inside, he sat down heavily on the bed.

The place felt so empty with Ballister gone. What was taking him so long? Had the librarian detained him? Or had he… Had he perhaps gone through with his date?

The treacherous question brought a wave of nausea. Because what if— The park was full of romantic, secluded spots. Anything might happen there. And Ambrosius knew that, if he were in Gustav’s place, he would—

Thinking about things was clearly a mistake. Instead, Ambrosius turned towards the pillow, and punched it as hard as he could, once, twice, three times, before deciding that the springy mattress made the experience rather unsatisfying. So, he picked up the pillow, and arranged it against the headboard. That was much better. He gave it a good ten minutes of solid work, varying his punches.

Tired out by the exercise, he collapsed on the bed. The pillow toppled, falling straight onto his face.

It smelled faintly of Ballister’s hair.

Ambrosius groaned. The memories came quickly: images of how it had been between them in the dorms, in that more innocent time before Ballister grew so standoffish, when Ballister’s bed—and his company—felt like the only safe place in the world. Of course, that was before he himself had grown up, and long before he had acquired the looks and skills that now gave him worth. When friendship had represented the pinnacle of all he could hope for in life.

It was still the best thing, of course, friendship. And when taken together with the chance at a glorious future on the field of chivalry… Well, it should be enough for anyone. He only hoped he could make Ballister understand this.

How strange, though, that his friend shared his problem. He would never have guessed—even if he had, at times, imagined it, in those stories he liked to tell himself.

Oh, he knew the stories were childish, but they truly helped, at times like this. Right now, for example, he could tell himself that Gustav did not matter, that the date had been a disaster. And that Ballister was already on his way home, in a hurry to be with the person he loved the most in the world—the Institution be damned.

Part of him knew that this story was no more true than any of the others he had constructed—about his famous parents, or his own future heroic deeds—but the rest of him took full comfort in it. Ambrosius put his arms around the pillow, and kept dreaming.


	3. Chapter 3

Ambrosius blinked at the light that had suddenly flooded the room, and looked up at a dark, looming figure, which slowly resolved itself into a scowling Ballister. He stared upwards, noticing how the lamp shining behind his friend’s head gave him the illusion of a halo.

“Oh, hello,” he said. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Yes, I see that. Why?”

Why indeed? Ambrosius was remembering now, recalling the entirety of the library disaster. Especially that unworthy coward Gustav. He sat up, to better examine Ballister. Was that a hickey there, below his jaw line? He felt nauseous again.

“How was your date?” he asked weakly.

“If you have been waiting here to interrogate me about my social life, then you are doomed to disappointment. Since it is none of your business.” Ballister crossed his arms and turned his head away, revealing more of his neck.

His unmarked neck! The hickey had been just a shadow. Not that this proved anything, but it cheered Ambrosius, and made him feel ready to do battle for Ballister’s best interests with anyone, even Ballister himself.

“Perhaps it is not my business,” he said. “But do you know who will certainly believe it to be theirs? The Institution! You are well aware of the rules they expect us to follow—”

“And you are well aware of how I feel about following rules blindly, with no regard for my own conscience.”

“And no regard for your own future?” Ambrosius swept a strand of hair off his forehead and gazed up at Ballister pleadingly. “They could have you expelled from Knight school, you know. They have the authority.”

“They have common sense, too. And they have invested a great deal in my training. It would be irrational to get rid of me just as they are beginning to get a return on their investment.”

Beginning to? Hardly. Ballister was already far better at... well, at everything, really, than most full-fledged Knights. He looked the part, too, with his broad shoulders, his noble, defiant bearing, and with all that dramatic backlighting.

“You know,” said Ambrosius, “you might be right. You are very skilled and valuable. So, yes, you are probably safe. I think.”

“Thank you, Ambrosius, that is most reassuring.”

“But it must be, surely?”

“Hmm.” Ballister’s posture relaxed a little; he met Ambrosius’ eyes again. “I cannot pretend your recent behaviour has been anything other than deranged, but… You were honestly worried, weren’t you? What was it that the Headmaster told you, anyway?”

“The Headmaster? How did you—”

“While you were losing it in the library, you mentioned that the Headmaster had told you something.”

“Oh. Right.” The pillow lay right there beside him. Ambrosius picked it back up, and held it to his chest. “I suppose I might as well explain. It happened just after my thirteenth birthday. The Headmaster called me into—”

“Wait — have you been in a fight?” Ballister’s eyes had wandered to the pillow; he now sat down on the bed, and grabbed one of Ambrosius’ hands, inspecting the knuckles. “Did you track down Gustav after we got thrown out of the library?”

Ambrosius supposed that yes, his hands were a bit swollen from all that punching, but this seemed completely irrelevant to the current situation. Which was that there had been no lengthy date, after all! And also, that Ballister was holding his hand, which should not feel all that unusual, but… No, actually, feeling good about touching Ballister was pretty usual, all things considered.

“Well?” Ballister asked.

“What?” Ambrosius struggled to focus. “You think I fought Gustav? A civilian? That is ridiculous.”

“It certainly is, but given the odd way you have been acting…” Ballister kept staring at him with unmollified suspicion. “Whom did you fight, then?”

“Nobody. I just decided to... get some boxing practice.”

“With your bare hands? I mean, look here.” Ballister picked up his other hand. The pillow, abandoned, flopped forward. “You’ve drawn blood.”

“I did not think.” Sitting close together like that… something about it seemed to call for complete honesty. “I was angry.”

“At whom?” Ballister shifted on the bed. “At me?”

“A bit, yes. Because you were out on a date without me.”

Well, that was honesty for you — now he had said something that could not be unsaid. Although, surely Ballister had understood it all, already? Now that they knew about each other, and were holding hands, and everything felt so tense that Ambrosius could hardly breathe?

Ballister did seem to consider his confession carefully. Then he exhaled. “Look, if you can accept that the Institution is not going to throw me out, then you can certainly convince yourself that they are not going to throw you out, either. Certainly not for failing to get me safely settled with a girlfriend.”

“Failing to— How does— You think the Institution asked me to do that? No, no, it was entirely my own idea. I thought it would make you happy, and that I could— I did not even know you were in danger! But now— As you just proved, we are both safe, and—” Ambrosius looked at Ballister imploringly, willing him to understand.

But Ballister was already standing up. “You and your ideas! But never mind: come with me. We should clean up your hands.”

And, just like that, the moment was over. Or, rather, it was revealed as nothing special, after all: just another instance of Ballister taking care of him, like always. Ambrosius let himself be pulled up and led over to the dresser before he realized just how bereft this made him feel.

“I am not a child, you know,” he said. “I do not need your help.”

“You do realize that is exactly what you used to say back when you were a child?” Ballister reached for the disinfectant. “Besides, I like helping, so please humour me.”

Ambrosius decided that the best way to save the situation was to act like a real adult. So, he concentrated on ignoring the sting of the medicine, and on looking heroic and aloof. From what he could see in the dresser’s mirror, he was doing a good job—something in his expression hinted at suppressed pain—but the effort was pointless, as Ballister did not even glance at his face.

“So,” he said, still fussing with Ambrosius’ hands, “I guess you now understand why I was not entirely taken with the idea of a Science Girlfriend?”

“Yes, although… Was I right about the science, at least? Is that important to you, in a— in a guy?”

The second the words were out of his mouth, Ambrosius realized that it might be better not to know. After all, if Ballister said yes, then Ambrosius’ future stories might need to involve learning science, which would make them far less believable, and thus less soothing. Unfortunately, Ballister replied before he could withdraw the question.

“Well,” he said, “I suspect that it helps to have something in common. To talk about, you know. The way you and Bwendolyn have, um, fashion, and— Here, can you press back against my palm? Does that feel normal?”

“Yes. I am fine. Really.” Ambrosius flexed his fingers. “Anyway, you know, we have everything in common. Starting with—”

“I am sure you do.” Ballister released his hand rather abruptly, and stepped back, stretching. “What a strange day. I feel exhausted.”

“I was not talking about Bwendolyn.”

“Sorry?”

“I was talking about us. Me and you. We have things in common too, don’t we?”

“Of course. Lots of things. For example, at this moment, we are both banned from the library.” Ballister’s small smile dissolved into a yawn. “But never mind that. I really need to get some sleep.”

“Right.” Ambrosius could take a hint. “I guess I should leave, then.”

But the moment he turned to go, losing sight of his friend, the long stretch of Sunday seemed to open up before him. With no classes, and no scheduled training, he could not foresee the moment when he would see Ballister again. And, meanwhile, that awful Gustav would be lurking somewhere, no doubt plotting to retry the date soon. Perhaps even tomorrow! Ambrosius did not know how he would cope with a whole day of sickening dread.

He paused.

“You know, that music festival…” He said over his shoulder. “The one I made you miss? I think... Maybe we could? Go there tomorrow?”

Ballister blinked. “What, as a double date, only with— I did think about it, before, but at this point I really do not think Gustav would agree, and, as for Bwendolyn, I suspect she—”

“Forget Bwendolyn. We broke up. And I did not mean—”

“What? When?” Ballister stepped around to face him, frowning. “Is that why you have been acting so completely—”

“Not at all, and it happened yesterday, and it is not relevant right now. Since I did not intend to suggest a double date. I meant—” Ambrosius felt his face heat up. “Just the two of us.”

Ballister, who had clearly been about to continue the Bwendolyn-related interrogation, froze. For what felt like a minute. “Well, we have gone places together often enough,” he said at last. “We could certainly visit the park for a little while.”

For a little while! This was no solution—not while Gustav lurked in ambush. “Actually,” said Ambrosius. “I think we should stay quite a long time. There are fireworks, at night. Also,” he continued, in a rush of inspiration, “I think it should be. You know. A non-double date.”

There! That would certainly fix Gustav, since no person of honour would accept two dates on the same day. And it might remind Ballister that Ambrosius, as someone who went on dates, was definitely not a child. Also—

Also, oh God, he had just suggested a date to Ballister. In reality, not in a story in his head. And Ballister… Ballister seemed in no hurry to accept. Or even to respond, in any way. He was frozen again.

“So?” Ambrosius’ voice seemed to come from very far away.

Ballister took a deep breath. “Okay. Okay. Let’s talk semantics, here. When you say “a date”, what do you mean, exactly? How is that different from going to the park as friends?”

“Well, on a date you generally talk less, and you are supposed to stare at each other more. And then there are these leafy areas, with trees and hedges, where you can—” But no, he did not want to talk about the private spots, and especially not about the things he had imagined doing there. Not when Ballister was in this cold, clinical mood, standing there as if in judgement, while he himself blushed uncontrollably. “Actually, forget it. Why are you asking me about something you understand perfectly well? This is not a classroom. Or your science lab.”

“Of course not. But I think you just proved a theory of mine, all the same.” Ballister regarded him sadly. “Ambrosius… I know that we are not as close as we used to be, and that this is lamentable. And I suppose that you see this, er, date as a way to reconnect… but surely you can see that pandering to my interests can only make things worse? Given that you do not share them yourself?”

“Which interests? Science? How was I—”

“Not interests, then. Proclivities? Or… Let me be blunter.” Ballister squared his shoulders. “You have just asked me to, well, make out with you in some bushes in the park. Do you expect me to believe that this is something you want? I mean, look at yourself. You cannot even think about kissing a guy without going all red with embarrassment. Which is, of course, quite understandable, given that you are not gay.”

It was too much to take in at once, all this talk of making out, wanted or unwanted, and Ambrosius did not need a mirror to know how flustered he must appear. He decided to focus on one basic fact.

“But of course I am. Gay, that is.”

Ballister sighed. “Come on, Ambrosius. We both know that is not true. Let’s review the evidence. You have been chasing after girls for years.”

“So? I already told you that was irrelevant.”

“And you have never, ever expressed any interest in guys.”

“Well, neither have you.”

“True, neither of us has spoken about it. But with you it is goes further than that. I have never noticed you as much as glance at a guy with any interest.”

This was getting completely ridiculous. “Of course you haven’t! Have you seen the guys around here? Why would I bother to look at any of them when you are in the same room?”

“When I— Oh.”

Well, here was a rare sight: Ballister, all out of arguments. Ambrosius had won! It felt so great that he could not resist gloating a little.

“Actually,” he said, “I suspect that I am much gayer than you. I mean, people were asking me about it even before I was sure myself.”

“People…” Ballister, who had been looking oddly pleased for someone who had just lost an argument, frowned. “Is this the Headmaster story, the one you never finished? I thought that was about me.”

“Well, it is, in a way. Because he told me that he had seen how we were, together. How I looked up to you. And then he said—” No, upon further consideration, no way was Ambrosius going to refer to himself as a homosexual runt, especially not in front of Ballister. “He pointed out my small size, and my unruly, inappropriate affections, and informed me that space in the school was limited.”

“I see.” Ballister’s voice was very quiet. “And how did you respond?”

“In the usual way. I told him that he was wrong about me, and that I would grow up anytime now, into a mighty knight who would save all the maidens from all the dragons.” Ambrosius shrugged. “Anyway, he dismissed me, and I went off to figure out how to get a girlfriend. I knew he probably wanted me to stay away from you, but I thought that my approach would work better. I mean, the courtly stories are full of knights who have girlfriends or even wives, and who still spend practically all their time with their friends, and nobody complains about it.”

“Ambrosius…” Ballister was staring at him, very attentively, which might have felt pleasant, if not for the expression on his face: he had that pitying, taking-care-of-a-child look again, the one that suggested the moment of adult closeness was over.

“But forget about all that,” said Ambrosius. “It happened years ago. And now I really am grown up, and valuable, just like you, and we…” But no, he was suddenly far too tired to keep trying, only to feel the connection slip through his fingers, yet again. “Look, you are right. It has been a weird, exhausting day. We should sleep. We can discuss the park thing tomorrow. Or even later. Just please, please don’t go out with Gustav before we have had a chance to talk, okay?”

And, with one final pleading look, he turned and made for the exit.

“Ambrosius, no. Wait.”

Ambrosius paused, one hand halfway to the doorknob, uncertain whether he should feel hope, or dread. He was steeling himself to turn around when he felt arms slip around his waist and tighten, pulling him closer, until he felt the warmth of another body all along his back. He closed his eyes as Ballister’s chin came to rest on his shoulder.

“Of course I will go to the festival with you,” Ballister said.

 

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're done! Thank you for reading, fellow member of tiny fandom! Please feel free to comment, especially since writing in an Ambrosius POV has left me with a stronger-than-normal longing for public approval. (Although, on the plus side, my hair has never looked better.)
> 
> Just in case anyone is interested, I wanted to include a tiny bonus. You see, while writing a story, I like to construct a little summary of what is really at its *heart*, to help me stay focused. I thought it might be fun to include this story's summary in this note. Anyway, here it is:
> 
> **A Fic Summary for Busy Executives in a Hurry**
> 
> 1.  
>  **Ambrosius:** Hey Ballister, let’s go on a romantic date together! Oh, and there will be some girls there too.  
>  **Ballister:** Will you stop talking about girls and draping yourself all over me and interrupting me just as I am trying to come out?  
>  **Ambrosius:** Apparently not. But I will dump my girlfriend on the off-chance that it will let me see more of you in the future.  
>  **Bwendolyn:** *Is only here to get dumped, and make a joke*
> 
> 2.  
>  **Ballister:** *Tries to go on awkward date to get over all the draping*.  
>  **Ambrosius:** RARGH MY FEELINGS ARE TOO COMPLEX TO FIT IN A PUNCHLINE. Speaking of punchlines, I should pick a fight with Ballister. At least that way I get to touch him.  
>  **Gustav:** Ugh, just make out already.  
>  **Library Staff:** *Stops the fight.*  
>  **Ambrosius:** Oh fine, I’ll just punch a wall a few times, and fantasize about exactly the scenario most readers think will happen at the end of this story.
> 
> 3.  
>  **Ambrosius:** So now we are both gay and holding hands and the room is full of hearts, flowers, and rainbows.  
>  **Ballister:** I am glad that you seem cool with the gay thing, and slightly less insane, and mostly uninjured. Let’s quit while we’re ahead, and go to bed. Separately.  
>  **Ambrosius:** I reject your proposal, because: GUSTAV. My counter-proposal is: let’s go make out in some bushes.  
>  **Ballister:** No, because you are not nearly gay enough for me.  
>  **Ambrosius:** I AM WAY GAYER THAN YOU ARE! Also I have childhood angst.  
>  **Ballister:** Well, childhood angst IS the way to my heart.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. It goes without saying that these characters, the setting, the tropes, and even some of random visual images I used, are based on the work of Noelle Stevenson, and that this fic is meant as a tribute. Even though it is not worthy, etc.  
> 2\. Oh look, a picture:  
> http://gingerhaze.tumblr.com/post/31373390486/i-drew-goldenloin-and-ballister-as-cute-kids-and  
> This picture is relevant because it’s the only one I have found that depicts these guys close to the age they are supposed to be in this story.  
> 3\. Oof, writing fanfic for someone else’s main characters is oddly stressful. What is in-character? Who knows? Not me! One thing I do know, however, is that I am using several (too many?) of Ambrosius’ in-comic plot-driving behaviours, such as: a great capacity for self-delusion; a suspicious interest in dates-by-proxy; and a tendency to forget which of his thoughts he has actually shared with Ballister, and which ones never left his head. So that’s been fun.  
> 4\. Thank you to Dilly, Lenine, and Wulfila for their helpful beta!  
> 5\. Concrit is always welcome. (As is praise, random questions, and so on.)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Day After Two Nights in Knight School](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2137434) by [LiveOakWithMoss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiveOakWithMoss/pseuds/LiveOakWithMoss)




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